


Born In Flames

by Jetoire



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Daenerys inspired, Dragon Eggs, F/M, Hate to Love, Inspired by Game of Thrones, Skyrim AU, Skyrim Romance Mod, Slow Burn, bishop is a bit of a prick, gallus is alive!!, the Vigilants of Stendarr are kinda nasty, the dovahkiin has anger issues, the dragonborn is basically daenerys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2018-12-27 18:27:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12086811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jetoire/pseuds/Jetoire
Summary: "If looks could kill, he would be on fire right now. But she wasn't a dragon, and she couldn't kill someone with just a word. No, she could kill someone with multiple ones, and a dagger to the neck."Ilia has never been the best person - or, honestly, the most important person. She's always found it funny that a girl raised by Vigilants of Stendarr could become a daedra worshipping thief. She probably would have never guessed that as a child - Or that a pretty stone she had taken home as a child would lead to the return of dragons to her world, but fate works in funny ways.Or; The dragonborn finds a dragon egg when she's little and keeps it because she likes pretty rocks. Bishop is also there too.STRONGLY breaks canon - characters' personalities and storylines are very different. Skyrim is practically a whole new world.





	1. Thieves Have Honour.

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the first chapter of my fic! I've been planning this for a short while, but I was so excited to get it done that I got five a4 pages done in an hour purely bc i have so many ideas and stuff sketched out. 
> 
> I'd also just like to warn everyone that i haven't written a published fanficition in 3 years, so I'm more than rusty. This may be my first literate fanfic ever. So. Yeah. 
> 
> I also only quickly went through my grammar checking, because i was too excited to publish it. If you find anything, please let me know so I can fix it!  
> Reviews and comments are greatly appreciated!!

A small girl trudges up a rocky path behind her mentor, a large fur pack on her back slowing her down to a slow climb. They're not far from the top now, and her mentor seems to be tiring too, so she doesn't feel so discouraged for her loud breaths. if a vigilant is tired after their climb, then she's allowed to be, too. 

She blows a small lock of brown hair from her eyes, a small pout remaining on her face. She can see their destination now; and she stops for a second to admire the view over dawnstar, and the small blur she thinks might be their home. She beams, childlike and innocent with wide eyes, calling to her mentor. 

"Daren! I can see the hall from here!" He turns, backtracking slightly back to her and looking over the mountain with her. 

He chuckles, and pats her head with a shake of his own. His hood falls, and his dark cropped hair probably doesn't stop his head from getting cold - but he doesn't shiver. Instead he replies, "Right you are, little one. We've come quite far, haven't we?" He looks down at her, his own smile mimicking her toothy one. She nods, and they continue their trek. 

At the top she finally stops and shrugs the pack of, letting out a sigh. She almost thinks it's cruel to make an 8 year old carry his big pack, but she likes Daren, so she doesn't mind. It might even help her build muscles and grow out of her small lean frame. She shakes the snow from her hair, and finally takes in the sight surrounding her. A small stone altar is in the middle, Daren inspecting it. 

There's items scattered about the table, and Daren is mouthing a prayer to Stendarr, So she knows that whatever is there is somehow related to a daedric ritual. An involuntary shiver runs through her spine at the thought, and she turns her head away from it. She really didn't like the daedra - if she was honest, they terrified her. But she wouldn't admit that to Daren, because that would mean she couldn't join his order, and she would need to leave the only home she'd ever known in her life. 

Rubbing her arms, she steps further away from the altar, instead deciding to inspect the old stone wall. She runs her hands over the carved words; an old language she's never known and never will. She's not even sure she can tell what the language is, but she knows it's incredibly old. She walks slowly around it's perimeter, her hand on the wall guiding her. She views each word carefully, until she arrives at the end. 

She notices then the small pond at the side, and Daren rinsing whatever it was that he had found in the water. She tilts her head to the side like a curious dog, placing her small boots into the water and kicking the various wet stones around. She was hoping she'd find another pretty stone for her collection - She had one for every trip she went on with her mentor and surrogate father. She doesn't find a stone, but she sees a large grey shape that looks suspiciously like a rock she deems pretty. Moving some rocks out of the way, she finally lifts it out and she thinks it might be the prettiest stone she's ever seen. 

It's a black colour - but it looks to have red parts here and there, and it has a scaled pattern on it. There's moss growing on it, most likely from age and weather. She hears a splash behind her, and she turns with the egg still raised to her face level. Daren glares at it accusingly, before turning the gaze to her. "That looks evil, little one. We'll find a better stone, one that isn't tainted by daedric worshippers." She turns her head back around, studying the stone intensely. She doesn't think it's tainted, but she silently nods her head. He continues, "Throw it off the side of the mountain, and follow after me." He turns and heads back down the trail, leaving her to follow his orders. 

She steps towards the edge of the mountain, and stares at the rock she's holding over the edge of the mountain. She's about to drop it until she notices how beautiful it looks when the light catches it, and how it fits perfectly in her hands. She doesn't throw it like she was told. 

Instead she throws a different rock off the side, before running back to her abandoned pack, the rock cradled softly in her arms. She places it softly into the pack - certainly with a lot more care than expected of an 8 year old. She places the fur over the rock, and shrugs it back onto her shoulders. 

She runs to catch up with the robed man, and he looks at her questioningly, before nodding to himself and carrying on. 

"It's getting dark, and you need rest." He states to her, and she notices that the sun has started setting. The thought of her bed makes her yawn softly, and Daren laughs. "Come along, Ilia." 

\--- 11 years later ---

A redhead sits at a desk, the front legs of her chair raised off of the stone floor, and her feet resting on the wooden surface before her. She cradles her keepsake in her gloved hand - it still fits perfectly there even after all these years, and she smiles. Placing it in her lap, she instead picks her dagger off of the desk, and knocks some papers with her hand. She looks up, and no one has noticed. there's still the distant sound of running water, and the echoes of a released arrow every now and then fills up the large room. 

Niruin never misses his mark, and she wonders if it's partly because he never takes his attention off of his target. Satisfied that he hasn't noticed the papers she knocked over, she shrugs and raises her knife up to the natural light from the ceiling. She watches it glint in the sun, and runs her finger over it to check that it is indeed sharp. Happy with it's edge, she twirls it in her hands, watching it with interest. 

"Ilia."

She looks up, and watches the dark elf approach her, and doesn't move from her seat. Karliah bends down and picks up the papers she had knocked, lifting them accusingly to the other girl's face and raising an eyebrow. With a smile, she places the papers down before sitting on the edge of the desk, next to Ilia's booted feet. 

"You know Gallus hates it when you put your feet up on his desk." 

the redhead chuckles, finally lowering her feet, and returning all four legs of the chair back to the floor. "Oh, I know. That's exactly why I do it." Ilia chuckles, placing her elbows on the desk instead, and resting her head on her hands. Karliah had never seen her look as tired as she did in that moment, and she had certainly never noticed her friend's dark eye circles before. 

The elf shakes her head, silent for a moment, before finally speaking again. "The job you wanted to do for Delvin..." 

Ilia lets out a frustrated sigh, throwing her arms up. "Please don't tell me he wants Vex to do it instead now..." She trails off, placing her head on the desk. 

Her elf friend snorts, patting the red hair on the desk next to her lap. "No, he did want /you/ to do it, don't worry." Karliah smiles, lifting her hand before returning it to her lap. "But... Someone else did it. Just got the gold for the job, too." 

The nord stood up from her chair quickly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor, and echoing around the spherical room. Niruin had long stopped shooting, and was now watching his fellow guild member with interest. 

Karliah sighed, now clutching the black rock that her friend had pushed into her lap. "Ilia, don't do anything rash." 

The redhead stormed off, her boots thundering in the now silent room. Brynjolf stood by the door to the ragged flaggon, stopping the younger redhead with a hand on her shoulder before she could barge through. "Lass, I really think you should-" 

"Move, Brynjolf." Was all she said, and he complied. She slammed the door open, and all heads turned to her. She scanned the room, and her associates either avoided her eyes, or watched with intense interest. 

The first thing she noticed was a new figure at the bar - male, tan - Most likely a nord, she thought. He looked out of place in that moment, like a wolf in a herd of sheep. She found it strange that he could wear a thief's colour without looking like one. A rather large coin purse sat in front of him on the bar - /her/ coin purse. The reward from /her/ job. 

She slammed a fist down next to him on the wooden bar, and the other thieves around her flinched, but the mystery man wasn't even fazed. He finished his ale, and motioned for another. She could see him judging her from the corner of his vision; a golden iris travelling up and down her body, studying her expensive armour from head to toe. 

"I don't buy drinks for wenches." He spoke in a loud, hoarse voice. 

If there was any sound before, it was gone now. It was so quiet she thought she could hear Tonilia breathing from across the room. Everyone was staring now, likely in anticipation for the punch he would probably receive from the nord girl. 

"Oh, good. Because it's my money you're paying with." She rasped out. "And /I/ don't buy drinks for others. You owe me." her voice was snappy now, and she could see Vekel cringing in her peripheral, but she couldn't care less. 

"Is that so? Because I seem to recall completing the job and being handed the money." He shot back, now staring back at her. 

If looks could kill, he would be on fire right now. But she wasn't a dragon from all the old stories and legends, and she couldn't kill someone with just a word. No, she could kill someone with multiple ones - harsh ones, and a dagger to the neck. 

"/My/ job." 

He snorted then, and her fingers were practically itching for the dagger at her side. "I'm sure you can get a simple pickpocket job if you ask very nicely." He mocked, a slight smirk now on his face. He was clearly proud of himself for that, and it took everything in her not to roll her eyes. 

She had never had a good temper, and he was pushing his limits. Without a thought, her hand was wrapped tightly around her dagger, heading quickly to the man's throat. 

She would have killed him. He should be dead. His hand holding the wrist she had just tried to kill him with only seemed to fuel her anger. She might have even ripped his head off if a new voice didn't break the silence. 

"Ilia." She looked away from the man, and her body language softened. She ripped her hand away from the man without even looking at him again, and turned her body away from his general direction. Just like that, all of her anger was almost completely gone, and all that was left was a strong annoyance. "Is there a problem?" Gallus asks, now reaching her position. He looks at her with concern, before looking to the man she had just held a knife to. 

Gallus always seemed to be the kind of person to make you feel guilty for doing anything even slightly wrong. Evidently, this effect was the same on the stranger. Her anger suddenly felt very silly, and she mumbled her reasons to the guild leader. "He took my job." Gallus sighed, turning to Delvin. "Is he a new recruit?" he asked the breton. 

"No, just cashed the reward. Some kind of bounty hunter, apparently." Delvin replied, now providing Ilia with a look that almost said 'sorry'. 

"And he did the job well?" 

"Not a man killed or a guard alerted." delvin answered once again. 

Gallus looked at the man now, sizing him up silently. "You sure you're not interested, boy? We could always do with more members." The stranger stood up now, and Ilia was suddenly aware of his height next to her. He was only about half a head taller, but the height difference made her feel small. 

She crossed her arms, leaning back on the bar with a small huff. She would rather not have him in their family. They were thieves, sure, but thieves had honour. They had a code. They steal from others, not from each other. And a job was just the same. 

"I work better without a boss. Nothing to tie me down." The stranger shrugged next to her, pocketing his gold. "But i wouldn't say no to one more job if there was gold like this in it." 

Gallus studied him for a minute, before loudly speaking again. "Perfect. I have just the job. You both leave now." 

The stranger in black began to walk back towards where he had come from, but not before Ilia could get out; "What do you mean, 'you both'?" She suddenly shot up, her anger rising again. However, with just one look from her senior, she quickly shut up again. "I mean that you're going with him." There was a silent message in his words, and she nodded. He didn't speak it out right, but she knew he had said "Check him. I don't trust him." With one last look (and after receiving a sheet of paper with their job, since the man was too stupid to grab it for himself), she set off after the annoyance, and passed him with a glare. 


	2. The Dog is Kinder Than His Master.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ilia needs to learn how to keep calm under uncomfortable situations, and her companion needs to learn how to mind his own business.

She wasn't entirely sure how, but she and the stranger had gotten into a game of 'who can lead the two of them for the longest'. Everytime he would walk a little bit farther than her, she would walk past him again with her head held high - much like that of a snobby noble she would usually steal from for that exact way the walked. 

He hadn’t spoken a word since they left the Ragged Flagon, and neither had she, aside from telling him where they were going. The silence was far from comfortable, in all honesty. As they walked through Riften’s streets, she had been given glances from the people she knew - questioning what she was doing with their eyes. Sapphire had taken one look at the man, and then snapped her head to Ilia and winked. The red head had rolled her eyes so hard she was worried they might fall out of her skull. 

Not long after, they left the gates of the hold, stepping out into the autumnal forests that the Rift was so famous for. By now, Ilia had long given up on trying to walk in front of the man, and had instead taken to staring at him. She had been so blinded by rage earlier, that she hadn’t even stopped to size him up. Brynjolf always told her that a person’s looks told you everything about them, and she believed him. 

The first time she had met the other redhead, she had been around 16. She had been young and angry at the world, with only a few gold to her name, and the way she sat in the Bee and Barb showed as much - or it did, to Brynjolf. She had been holding an amulet of stendarr so tightly that she probably broke skin, she couldn't remember. Brynjolf had sat down next to her, and offered her a job. It was simple, and she appreciated it. She wouldn't have been surprised if he knew everything about her then.

She thought back to all the things he’d taught her as she stared at the back of the stranger. He was tanned, which told her he either came from somewhere else in Tamriel, or he’d spent most of his time in the warmer places of Solitude. His back and shoulders were well defined, and indicated that he used a bow, along with the dagger he had strapped to his belt. She tilted her head at that. Even a thief wouldn’t carry just a dagger, so why would he? And where was his bow?

“Do thieves not know that it’s rude to stare, ladyship?” He asked, causing her to flinch and look away quickly with a loud scoff. 

She furrowed her eyebrows, before looking back at him and answering his question with one of her own. “Ladyship? Seriously?” 

He let out his own quiet sound - somewhere between a scoff and a chuckle. “You carry yourself like a noble. What, did mother and father not pay you enough attention? Did you become a thief in hopes that they’d love you again?” 

Ilia was convinced that in life, everyone had one talent that nobody else had - something that made them individual. Clearly, this man’s was to create a burning sensation in the pit of her stomach, and the feeling of heat all over her body. He was very good at making her angry. She could feel her entire body pulsating with anger, and despite all the little things that Gallus had taught her to control her anger, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to control herself. 

So, she did what she had always done best. She left. She wasn’t even sure where she was going, but there was an urge in her to scream. To destroy everything she could see, and let it burn. She could feel the stinging in her eyes, the telltale sign of tears, but she refused to cry. 

\---

She sat there in quiet for a long while. She wasn’t sure how long it had been, but the sun dipping over the horizon told her it had been an hour at the least. Nothing had disturbed her, and it was odd, but she didn’t care. She gave herself time to think, and to calm herself down. She was close to getting back up to find the insufferable man, and getting the job over and done with so she could sit by the fire with her family. She pulled the end of her scarf, tightening it around her neck and pulling the hood down further over her face. 

She was just about to walk back up the way she had came, until she noticed a pair of eyes. Upon being noticed, they moved, and she turned to grab her bow. Once she had it in her hands, she turned around and froze. Rather than attacking, the beast sat a small ways ahead of her, the same eyes staring at her. It hadn’t attacked, which was strange for any of Skyrim’s predators, but instead stared back at her without moving. 

It was a beautiful animal, with fur of golden brown and black. It’s mouth had remained closed since she had noticed it, but she knew that sharp teeth were there. It turned it’s head suddenly, looking back up the trail she had come down, before looking back at her. 

She was by no means an animal expert, but she was sure that the wolf was asking her to follow. She stepped forward slowly, and the wolf stood up with a swish of it’s tail, turning down the trail. It stopped every now and then to ensure she was following, but kept on at a steady pace. Once they were close to the original path she had separated from her companion at, the wolf made a harsh turn to the left. She stopped for a moment, unsure which path to take, and after an internal debate with herself, she turned down the wolf’s path. The sun had set quickly and it was dark down the path, meaning her only indication of the animal guide was the soft crunching of leaves and the sight of it’s golden eyes every now and then. 

It got brighter as they went, and she was worried for a second that it might have been a trap, until she heard a soft whistle. If anything it should have been indication of a trap, but it didn’t worry her. The wolf ran off quickly, and she followed. Soon they came to a clearing, and the wolf left her standing just out of the boundaries of the small camp. 

“There you are, you mutt. Off to chase Rabbits?” the voice was familiar by now, and so was the figure she could just make out in the fire light, but the smile on his face and the laughter in his voice wasn’t. She watched them silently for a moment - watched the way the man rubbed the wolf’s fur, and the way the canine’s tongue rolled out of it’s mouth in what looked like a smile. She could have stood there all night, but the wolf looked at her and she knew that was her queue. 

She didn’t try to be stealthy this time, she just stepped forward with her head down low enough that her hood would cover her face. “Ah, off hunting damsels in distress then?” He looked from the wolf up to her, and watched her for a minute. 

Her time with Brynjolf had taught her to read some emotions, and though he may not have said it, she knew he felt at least a little bit of guilt. She was exhausted, and after her time alone, she realised she didn’t want to fuel her anger up by retaliating. So she played along. 

“He wouldn’t have known where to find me without the help of his local tavern owner!” She spoke, resting her back against a tree as she sat down. The other nord snorted, watching the wolf walk back into the woods. 

“I am the farthest thing from a Tavern owner.” He said, a smile in his voice despite the lack of one on his face. 

“Ah, you sure smell like one.” She wasn’t joking with that one. He really did smell like ale, and if it was someone she actually liked, she’d have told him to bathe by now. But she planned to finish this job with the man and never set her eyes on him again. 

“I need to know your name.” She spoke again, before he could get another word out after her jab. 

He raised an eyebrow - which she now noted had a faded scar cutting through it - and replied. “Oh, next we’ll be sharing a bed in Solitude!” he mocked. 

She rolled her eyes again, and the fiery glare was back in place. “Shut up. I don’t know your name, and I don’t intend to shout ‘Milk drinker’ whenever I need to signal you tomorrow.”

He stared at her for a long while, before looking back into the woods as if to beg his furred companion to return and save him. He let out a loud sigh, staring down at the arrow he was fletching. 

“Bishop.” He stated simply, clearly not even caring if she shared her name. 

“Thankyou.” She snapped, annoyed with the time he took to answer. “Ilia.” She said, only just loud enough for him to hear over the crackling of the fire. The camp was silent the rest of the night. 

\---

Their silence stretched until the morning, and while they walked together to their destination. The thief didn't admit it out loud, but she was thankful for the wolf's presence. He would sometimes run ahead, but not so far that he couldn't be seen. He had let out a low growl at some point along their journey, and not long after they had been attacked. Ilia realised then just how good Bishop was with his bow, and how vicious the wolf could be, despite his calm and domestic-like appearance. 

The canine must have noticed her watching, because he stopped his trek ahead of her, and waited for her to catch up. Once she had done so, he pressed himself against her leg, and continued walking like that. She scratched behind his ears with her blunt nails, and turned her head back to their companion. She was aware he had been staring, but she decided not to comment on it. She had been doing the exact same thing the day before, and it had inadvertently caused an argument - something she would rather avoid today after her restless sleep. 

"What's his name?" She asked casually, attempting to tip toe around anything nasty she had bitten down and wanted to say. 

He blinked once, and answered her question. "Karnwyr." He was silent for a moment, contemplating his next words. "Stop doing that. He isn't a domestic dog." He motioned his hand towards her own on Karnwyr's head. Her motions froze, and Karnwyr almost looked guilty before running off ahead again. 

"I know that, I'm not stupid. He's clearly a wild animal." She stopped walking, turning her body halfway in his direction. Her hood blew lightly in the wind, and she almost shivered. She wasn't sure if that was because of the wind, or because of his glare. 

"Then treat him like one." He walked past her, and the silence continued for another while. She wanted to kill him. She wanted to break him into tiny pieces with a scream, and she wanted to push his head into the next campfire they happened upon. She was infuriated with him, with the fact he had taken a guild job when he wasn't even in their workline, and she was angry with the fact that she couldn't tolerate him. 

She was angry with Gallus, too, for putting them into a job together. For encouraging people out of their family to involve themselves with them, and for simply offering him a position. Since when did bounty hunters even take thievery jobs? She had always been under the impression that they collected bounties placed by Jarls, and nothing more. Something wasn't right. 

She glared at the back of his head, and as if he sensed it, he turned around and rolled his eyes. "What is it now, your majesty?" 

"You lied." She said simply, her face stoic, her brown eyes staring right back into his own honey ones. He froze, and his muscles tensed up. She had caught him. "Now, you can tell me why you lied to my associates about your job, or I can go back there right now and tell them what I've found out." They were near the border between Riften and Falkreath by now, she thought, but she could make it back before him. She knew these woods like she knew the markings on her dagger.

He chewed his tongue for a moment, and rolled his eyes, before replying to her. "I'd rather not make an enemy out of your _friends_."

She raised her lip in a half smile at that comment, but remained silent. "I'm a..." 

"Mercenary. That was obvious." She stated calmly, keeping her glare trained on him. "Why did they send you to us?" 

"I'm not a mercenary." He shrugged lightly, looking away from her. "I was just supposed to collect the reward, and report on the state of the place. Money was better with your employers." 

It seemed so simple, and she really couldn't blame him, but she felt annoyed. They had hundreds of enemies, people in her line of work do, and it really wasn't that bad of a job. Learning that he was a mercenary wasn't even that bad either, a lot of people had turned to it nowadays. He just didn't have the guts to admit it, or the honour to keep one contract. 

She kissed her teeth quietly, and he gestured both hands towards the path. 

"After you, princess." He smirked as she walked past, but narrowed his eyes at her as she walked past. 

"I hate you." Was all she replied, and he followed behind her once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm bad at writing slow burn i am so sorry for this disgrace. Im just glad i dont have to write 'the stranger' anymore tbh  
> i should also learn how to make chapters a decent length. Sorry if this is too short/long, I'm honestly winging this fic as I go along, aside from major plot points.  
> I'm sorry if this is really repetitive and boring?? I promise the plotline will start to get better, I just have to build up Ilia's relationships a bit before we get to the good stuff


	3. Desperate men are the most dangerous.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bishop and Ilia get the job done, finally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is a long one, so buckle yourselves down.   
> Im bad at writing action, i am very sorry   
> also prepare for some slight feels because i hurt myself with this chapter

_ “Now, Ilia, listen to what I am about to tell you, because it is very important.” Daren had stated as he stood up from searching a body while a ten year old Ilia watched on. “Bandits are very dangerous, possibly more so than anyone else that tries to hurt people. Why do you think that is?”  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ The brunette girl had thought on it for a moment, screwing her face up at the question. “That’s obvious. It’s because they travel in groups and they attack anyone. Other people plan who they attack based on what they do. Thieves go after the rich because they carry more valuables, and assassins go after people with power because they are the most hated. The daedra worshippers go after us because we try to protect people from them.” Daren stared at her for a long while after she spoke. She had only seen ten winters, but she was already so aware of the world. He thought that might be partly down to him - to the way he had raised her. He always wondered what her mother would have raised her to be like. He frowned for another while, before answering.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “That is a fair point, little one. But you’re incorrect.” The girl furrowed her eyebrows at him, and opened her mouth to answer back. “They are dangerous because they’re unpredictable, and because they are desperate. Some bandits are truly evil, yes, but some only turn to it because they have to. Some are born into it, so that it is all they have ever known. Others turn to it because they have no other way to provide for families they may have - and they regret it. Nothing is as dangerous as a desperate man.” He looked to one of the slain bandits at his feet with a look of sorrow pointed towards the man’s wedding ring.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “The last type of man - they are the truly evil ones. They turn to banditry because they want to. Because they enjoy hurting people and causing chaos. It is unfortunate that we have to kill the good kinds of men with the bad ones.”  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Ilia was unusually quiet, and he worried for a moment that this lesson had been far too much for a girl of her young age. Her eyes were glossy with unshed tears, but she, being just like her mother he thought, didn’t show her sadness.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “I hope the good ones born into that life get out.” Was all she said, and continued walking.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ \--- _ _   
_ __   
The two nords sat atop a hill, overlooking their destination and hidden behind a rock. By the looks of things, it would be no easy feat to get through the camp and into the bandit leader’s hut. As far as bandit camps went, this was big. The redhead knew with certainty that there would be no getting the job done without doing some damage to the people in the camp. They were going to have to break the guild’s biggest rule in order to ensure their lives.    
  
“There’s no way we’re getting in there.” She whispered to her companion. She had noted that the two of them were abundantly more civil with one another - likely because they were in work mode. “It’s huge. There’s too many people.”    
  
He nodded ever so subtly. “I’ve seen bigger, I know what to do.” He pulled himself back behind cover of the rock, so only she was left looking at it. “There’s no way we can do this without having to kill some of them - your boss won’t be happy.” She sighed, pulling herself down too.    
  
“He’ll understand. It will just mean the reward is smaller.” She slid a potion from the pouch strapped to her leg, handing the white vial to the male. He raised an eyebrow at her questioningly. “Invisibility potion. It will help us with some of it, but we’re still going to struggle. I only have one each and they don’t last long.”    
  
“They’ll be enough. I know how to get around bandits without being noticed.”    
  
She wanted to ask him how, but she was stopped by a loud commotion coming from the camp. They both poked their heads over the top of the rock, quickly moving into action when they realised what was happening - two bandits were fighting, providing them with a distraction to get in.    
  
The fight left two guards outside the gate - which Bishop quickly and quietly dealt with from the hill. They stopped either side of the gate, preparing to enter the camp.    
  
“Save the potions for when there’s no cover. We need them to get into the hut.” She whispered, earning a nod from him.    
  
“You get the item, and I’ll get the guards inside the hut.” He whispered back, sliding behind the gate and into the camp.    
  
She followed behind him, and once inside, they both hid behind a weapon rack. The cover was bad, and they both knew it, but the bandit’s attention was well enough drawn away for them to be safe for a moment. When a particularly loud cheer came out of the bandits, they ran to the next piece of cover.    
  
They had gotten to the tricky part now - there was no cover and the bandits were starting to disperse from the fight. She looked to bishop and nodded, drinking from the white vial at the same time he did so.    
  
From there they quickly ran to the hut at the back of the camp, dodging moving bandits and anything that might get them noticed.    
  
As they slipped inside, Ilia began to see Bishop flashing in and out of sight, and she silently cursed. Time was almost out, then. Her own potion was still lasting, but if his was anything to go by, she didn’t have much time left. 

  
She slid into a side room, grabbing a small statuette from the top of the leader’s dresser. The ‘owner’ of the item lay asleep in his bed, a small ways from her. He was a large nord - someone she’d rather not wake up. She shoved the statuette into her pack and exited silently from the room.    
  
When she exited, she was met with a floor littered with dead bandits, and a now fully revealed Bishop.    
  
“Your potions run out.” He simply stated, earning a scoff.    
  
“Obviously. How are we getting out?” She asked, pocketing the gold from the bodies on the floor. She couldn’t help but think of Daren’s lesson at the sight of a young bandit. He only looked to be seventeen. She shook her head, stepping away from the boy’s corpse.    
  
“We run.” He shrugged at her.    
  
She glared at him. “You’re joking.” He shook his head, and she rolled her eyes. “You said you knew how bandits worked.”    
  
“I do. If we’re faster than them, they’ll give up after a bit.”     
  
She shook her head, but followed quickly after him, sending a quick prayer to nocturnal.    
  
\---    
  
She was thankful that Bishop had been right about the bandit’s not giving chase, but Ilia couldn’t help but be frustrated that that was his plan. After that run, she was exhausted, and the heavy statuette banging against her leg with every step didn’t help at all.    
  
Much like before, they had walked in silence, instead opting to shoot glares at one another every now and then. The ginger wouldn’t admit it, but she was thankful for the taller nord during their escape. She had almost had her skull smashed in by a large orc bandit that had caught up a bit too quickly, but Bishop had dispatched the mer with an arrow through the eye. He had saved her life.    
  
Her thankfulness did not overpower her hatred for the brunet with her, however, but she had to admit that it had lessened slightly. That was probably aided by his silence, she thought.    
  
As the sun dipped over the horizon, The mercenary’s wolf joined the two nords, his fur matted with leaves and twigs from the forest. “We should set up camp.” Bishop stated as Ilia pulled a particularly long branch from Karnwyr’s fur. She thought on his statement for a moment, but shook her head.    
  
“We’re close to Riften, and I’d rather get this job over and done with.” He nodded at her own thought; he couldn’t wait to be rid of the thief he’d been travelling with. She looked to him for a long while, thinking back on the day and the question she hadn’t been able to ask him.  _ Better late than never _ , she thought with a shrug. “So. Back at the camp…” Ilia spoke casually.    
  
“You’re welcome.” He rasped out.    
  
“Wasn’t on about that.” She retaliated, holding back a laugh at his frown. She cleared her throat with a cough. “You said you had experience with bandits. You get a lot of jobs from them?”    
  
He glared accusingly at her, but continued walking. “That’s none of your business.”    
  
“It kind of is. I’ve been travelling with you. How do I know you haven’t got a contract with a bandit leader somewhere?”    
  
“Why would a bandit leader want /anything/ to do with the thieves guild?”    
  
“Fair point. But I still deserve to know.”    
  
He stopped now, turning on his heel to face her threateningly. The rage in his eyes was so familiar to her - she’d seen it in her own eyes so many times when she caught her face in a mirror or glass. “No. You don’t.” He snapped. The rage in his voice was threatening, and she realised then that maybe he had a reason for not wanting her to know. Like trying to forget it himself.    
  
So she snapped her mouth shut and was silent until they reached Riften again.    
  
“I have to make a quick stop at the inn.” She stated as they walked through the gates, nodding to a guard.    
  
“Why? Actually, never mind. I don’t care. Just hurry up.”    
  
The inn was warm - a nice contrast to the cool night air she had been walking in previously. The place was abuzz with life, as it always was at night. The sounds of chairs scraping and laughter filled the air. It reminded Ilia of home, but Bishop was clearly uncomfortable with the amount of people.  _ Weirdo, _ she thought.    
  
They stood their for a moment, Ilia’s auburn hair whipping around as she looked for her friend. Once she noticed Sapphire against the wall, she walked off quickly, leaving Bishop in the center of the room. The dark haired thief looked around for a moment to check for anyone listening, before speaking in hushed tones to the other thief.    
  
“I couldn’t find anything, I’m sorry, Ilia. If you want information, you’re just gonna have to speak to, uh… you know who.”    
  
Ilia studied her friends boots for a moment, suddenly very interested in the scuffed leather. She sighed, looking back up to Sapphire.    
  
“Yeah, I probably should have known that. Thankyou for looking anyway, I know this had nothing to do with our jobs, but I just…”    
  
“Had to know? I understand.”    
  
“Something like that.” Ilia whispered, pulling septims from her coinpurse and placing them in her friends hand. “Buy yourself a drink, Saph.”    
  
She turned and left straight out the door without even waiting to check if Bishop was following her. The sound of the door behind her alerted her that he was. She considered her options from here. She could take the member’s entrance to the guild, but that would mean Bishop knew how to get in - which Vex would probably kill her for. The ratway, it was.    
  
Before long, they reached the ragged flagon, where Delvin sat checking ledgers, as per usual. She silently placed the statuette over the top of his work and waited for him to look up. She hadn’t even realised how exhausted she was until the coin purse was already in her hand and the statuette gone, along with Delvin.    
  
She turned to Bishop, throwing his reward to him.    
  
She hated him - gods, he made her boil over with anger whenever he looked at her. But for some reason, as she looked at him now, she didn’t want to say goodbye. She hated goodbyes. She hated having to let go of someone, even after knowing them for so little time. He looked at her questioningly as she stared at him, but she couldn’t look him in the eyes.    
  
The silence was broken by Vekel (who she noticed was the only person left in there besides her and Bishop) saying goodnight to her as he put the last tankard away. She watched him leave, and then turned back to Bishop.    
  
She was getting exactly what she wanted - to stay away from him for the rest of her life. But she just didn’t feel /right/.    
  
“Well. Goodbye, ranger.” She saluted to him, and earned a small smile from him.    
  
“It is good. I’m so glad to be rid of you.” He snorted.    
  
“Gods, so am I.”    
  
They stood there for another minute, but it stretched on for what felt like hours. Finally, he turned, and Ilia watched him leave back through the ratways. She hated him, but she hoped he found whatever it was he was looking for. She knew how that felt.    
  
With a sigh to help break the lonely quiet, she turned towards the cistern for a well earned sleep. 


	4. Something Older, Something Bigger

Shortly after Bishop’s departure, Ilia returned to her room in the cistern. It was quiet, and even though silence was bliss for her when she was younger, it was lonely for her now. Returning to an empty room only fueled the feeling of loneliness. 

The room was square - in one corner sat a bed with a straw mattress, and the corner next to that was home to a set of shelves. She had one just like it in her room when she was a girl. It had been filled to the brim with notebooks and stories - even the rare tome. Her current one, however, was practically empty. Other than the odd scrap of paper, it was only home to her journal, and her large stone, which she was happy to note Karliah had kindly returned to her room. Opposite to her bed, next to the door, was a wooden table large enough to sit two chairs at, and a small wooden chair tucked under it. Atop that was more scrap pieces of paper, and a few sticks of charcoal. 

She closed the door quietly, so as not to wake anyone, and lit the only candle in her room - the one on the table directly beside her bed. In the dim light, she began to remove her clothing, beginning with her hooded scarf. Hanging it over the post of her bed, she made quick work of her pieces of leather armour, including the pouch strapped to her leg, which she placed on the table. After doing this, she decided that she was far too exhausted to change out of her actual clothing. She would worry about that in the morning, once she had slept off… whatever was wrong with her currently. 

It annoyed her that Bishop’s leaving upset her, albeit only slightly. She loathed the man - he had been rude to her, and he was definitely not the most pleasant company in the world. But she still had to say goodbye to him, and goodbyes were the worst thing in the world - she would rather someone not be in her life rather than be in it for a few days and leave (Much like Bishop). 

She allowed herself to fall into her bed, her pale hands rubbing her tired eyes. With her movement - and the gust of slight wind it created - she had knocked papers to her floor. She let out another loud sigh, before picking up the fallen charcoal drawings. Every paper was different; but so similar at the sametime. Almost every image depicted something she had seen in her dreams over the years - winged beasts, Women with sharp teeth, and a child with golden eyes. By the time she woke up, all she could remember were dark blurs and distinct details. She let her imagination fill in the rest of the details in her art. 

The drawings were enough to break her from some of her reverie, and remind her of exactly how tired she was. Who wouldn’t be, after not sleeping properly for the time she was with Bishop? Once again, she collapsed into the straw and fur, and allow the divines to carry her mind into the dark blurs once again. 

\--

The next morning, she decided to devote her day to sitting at her desk with new paper and charcoal. This time, she wouldn’t draw from her dreams. This time, she drew her childhood home. She completed it with all the details she could remember - she drew the old vigilant who chopped wood outside every morning, and the two trees that were so alike they could be twins. She focused all her attention on catching the things she would forget one day - she focused so much that she was oblivious to the world around her, surrounded by nothing but what she could remember. 

“Is that the hall of the Vigilant?” A soft voice asked from beside her.

The sudden noise in the room made her jump slightly, breaking her from her trance. She’d been doing that a lot recently. Gallus stood beside her, his soft eyes following the dark lines before her. She turned her head to see it too. 

“Yes. Or What I remember it as, at the least.” She whispered, a pale finger tracing the patterns. She sighed, “It’s strange. I couldn’t stand the place as I got older, but I still… I still miss it.”

“You said you disliked it as you got older. You liked it when you were young?”

She studied the image again, her eyes flicking over every little wooden line she’d tried to replicate. “I had a happy childhood, I think. Or, well, I thought it was happy at the time. I got to travel - to see Skyrim, and I loved my mentor.” 

She didn’t need to say anymore, she knew. Gallus understood - he was one of the few people she had ever shared her troubles with - one of the only people that knew her inside out. Still, she wanted to continue. If she didn’t get her thoughts out, she’d be in the same mess she was in currently for weeks. 

“I just… Miss it, and I wish i didn’t. Because I despise the place, because it’s not what i thought it was when i was younger. I projected what i wanted onto the place, and now I... can’t let go of it. That place /was/ my childhood, and childhoods are far simpler. Carefree. Sometimes I wish I could go back to my childhood - to be oblivious to the world and all the troubles of the present.” She rubbed at the knot between her brows. “But at the same time… I don’t want to go back. Why would I, to have a childhood that nobody should have?” She let out a sharp noise of frustration, throwing her hands in the air. “It’s frustrating. I hate it. I wish I didn’t feel like this.”

It was silent for a moment, before the imperial placed a warm hand on her forearm. “There’s no shame in holding sentiment over something that used to make you happy. You may have realised that the place wasn’t what you thought it was, but you’ll always remember it how you saw it; how you perceived it. It brought you joy, and that’s what’s important. Your own happiness came before the reality - And that’s perfectly okay, Ilia.” 

Her brows creased, and she finally pulled her eyes away from the image before her. A shiver ran down her spine, and she allowed all of her thoughts to just… drift away. She pushed the drawing away, discarded with the dark shapes of her dreams. For another moment, she did nothing but simply stare at the wall before her, no thoughts in her mind - complete darkness. Gallus didn’t pressure her to move, or to say something. He simply sat, waiting for her to feel ready to let the moment pass. 

After another moment, she blinked, finally turning her head to the older man. He smiled reassuringly at her, patting the forearm he had been grabbing before. 

Since leaving behind her old home, Gallus had always been a rock for her. He had understood her in a way nobody else ever had - treated her in a way nobody ever had. In a way, he was much like Daren. Both men had served as a father figure for different parts of her life, and they had taken on the different roles in different ways, befitting of the different girl and their different personalities. She hoped Gallus wouldn’t end up like Daren. 

As if the moment had never happened, The thieves guild leader moved for the door. Before turning the handle, however, he stopped, and turned to the nord. “Have you eaten yet?” 

\--

Riften was quiet at that time. The market stalls were just setting up, and a fog lay low over the river, accompanied by the mist in the air. Despite the outsides emptiness, however, the Bee and Barb was as busy as ever. Keerava stood behind the bar as always, serving drinks to the workers getting in a breakfast before a day at the docks or brewery. Talen-Jei looked up from his sweeping as they walked in, giving the two thieves a smile. 

As Ilia turned to walk in the direction of the bar, Gallus grabbed her elbow, shaking his head slightly. “Let’s just get a table first.” He smiled. 

They chose a table beside a wall, close to the exit in case of… well, anything happening, as it usually did in Riften. Shortly after, Talen-Jei came over to take their order, to which they both only stated bread and cheese. 

As the Argonian man departed, Gallus turned to the girl opposite him. He watched her for a minute, Ensuring that she was okay after the earlier outpour of emotions - a rare occurrence for the redhead. “I wanted your opinion on something.” He stated eventually. 

She turned her head to him, a blur of auburn locks as she moved. “Regarding ‘work’?” She asked, watching as Talen-jei set down two wooden plates before them. 

As she began slicing the cheese before her, and tearing at the bread, he spoke again. This time, it was quiet enough that only the two of them would hear his words. 

“I’m thinking of asking Karliah to marry me.” 

She choked on the bread in her mouth. 

“You- Karliah… What?” was all that she was able to get out. Instead, she simply stared at him in shock, watching as he chuckled quietly at her. 

“I know that marriage isn’t for people in our business, and certainly not for an Imperial and a Dark elf, according to most people, but..” He broke off, cutting his own cheese. “I won’t be in this business for the rest of my life, let’s be honest. I’m getting old - our work is too much excitement for me.” 

She stared at him quizzically. “You’re only just over forty,” She stated simply. “You’re not old.” 

He smiled, and continued. “Karliah will live a lot longer than me. I don’t want to leave her someday with nothing.” Ilia frowned, Pushing her plate away to make room for her crossed arms. “You don’t agree?” He frowned. 

She smiled softly. “Of course I do, I’ve never seen two people so in love. Karliah may seem like the kind of person who ‘doesn’t need marriage’, but she’s soft, really. A big romantic at heart.” 

They ate in silence for a while after that. It was Ilia who broke the silence. “When will you ask her?” 

“I’m not sure. Not for another few months, at the least.” 

She raised her tankard towards him with a grin. 

“I can’t wait for when you do.”

\-- 

That afternoon, she left the city walls. She set off in no particular direction, with no particular goal in mind, and no destination in sight. She wandered aimlessly, away from society and away from the nagging thoughts that she seemed unable to get out of her head that day. 

As leaves crunched beneath her boots, and a cool autumn breeze brushed her face, she allowed her thoughts to run free and, hopefully, away from her finally. It didn’t sit well with her that she couldn’t get Daren and the touchy subject of her childhood out of her head. On any other day, a few paces and a quick chat with Gallus would drive away the dark thoughts. Today, however, and for some unknown reason, the thoughts stubbornly refused to leave.

It seemed that for the moment, being away from people took her thoughts away. She didn't think of anything in particular; or really, anything at all. It was almost as if she had become one with the trees around her, had become the rippling crystal waters beside her, and had become the breeze that carried her auburn locks across her face. 

She smiled. 

For once, it was not a victorious smile, or the smile she would make when she had let out a particularly snarky comment. It was not the smirk her face would default too when someone had judged her poorly and ended with her blade at their throat, nor the sarcastic smile she often flashed. 

This particular smile was one of nothing. It was not born of bliss, or of a fond memory. It was simply from being… free. From relief of not being held to certain standards or expectations. It was one of a woman finally letting go of a lost loved one. It was all of this and yet… it was none of them. It simply was. 

It was blissful, for a long moment. And it seemed as if the intrusive thoughts were finally gone, so she closed her eyes. The moment became what felt like hours, and she felt no different. She didn’t feel anything. She didn’t think anything. And when it felt like she might float away, be carried away on the wind like a hawk’s feather, she pulled a word from deep within her. 

And she meditated on it. 

It was a word that was and wasn’t. As old as the divines themselves, but only as old as her blood. Her mind couldn’t comprehend what the word was, but another part of her could. A part of her that was… older. 

It dragged her elsewhere, and when she felt like she might lose herself, she opened her eyes. 

For a moment she didn’t know where she was, or who she was. Her face felt uncomfortable, and she realised that her brows had been furrowed so much that her muscles ached, and her skin felt tight and leathery. 

When she had taken a minute to do her breathing exercises once again, and settled herself back into her own body - which felt much too small, now - she noticed the pair of golden eyes staring back at her. 

A groan escaped her throat of it’s own volition. 

The owner of the eyes did not move, did not make a sound. They simply watched her, like a predator watched its prey. 

She could feel her temper rising once again, which only made her even more annoyed, given how long it had taken her to calm down. 

“I thought I was finally rid of you.” 

She turned, and still the other did not speak. 

“Realise that you’d die without me and come to beg for me to accompany you on some ridiculous journey, Bishop?”

The man did not speak, but simply watched her for a few seconds, before speaking. 

“You’ve been standing there for hours.” He stated simply. 

Her breath caught in her throat for a moment, as the dark sky finally registered in her head. Her breathing quickened, and her body felt too small again. She tried to focus on the person with her, but all of her mind seemed to scream the same thing, on and on, and on. She was too small, and everything was too tight and-

He snorted, and it seemed to focus her once again. What was wrong with her today?

“Been standing around and watching me for hours, have you?” She snapped, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“No. Karnwyr kept heading off in this direction today, so i decided to follow him. That was just as you snapped out of whatever weird thing you were doing.” His eyes seemed to narrow on her. “I thought hearing me was what snapped you out of it.” There was none of the playful mirth in his eyes that there had been the prior days. Everything he was saying was out of… something resembling concern. Or likely just weird, morbid interest. 

She hadn’t even heard him show up. 

She grunted, and turned away. She took a step to leave, and then stopped, cursing under her breath. 

She had no idea where she was. 

In her earlier reverie, she had been paying no attention to the direction she was heading in. The warm tones of the tree leaves around them assured her that she was still in the Rift, at least. 

She chewed on her lip, her eyebrows once again knitting together in thought. Her face muscles ached, but she didn’t care. As she turned in every direction in an effort to make out her location, she felt a warm presence against her leg. Surprisingly, the sudden feeling didn’t threaten or surprise her in any way, but felt oddly comforting. Her hand lowered of its own volition to rub the soft fur of the wolf beside her. 

Though she couldn’t see it, or notice in her moment of focus, Bishop watched her with interest. Though he had told her he’d only just showed up, that wasn’t the truth. He had seen her enter the area hours before, with a wet face and eyes that looked thousands of miles away. It was true, however, that he had only approached moments before she snapped back to reality. The man would never mention it, but despite the body that was smaller than his, she had looked bigger as she stood there alone. As if her soul was something much, /much/ bigger than what was trying to hold it.

What fascinated him even more, though, was that Karnwyr seemed oddly attached to her. The wolf had never been one to enjoy social interaction that wasn’t him in the more recent years, the very definition of a lone wolf. That Karnwyr would take to easily to the almost-redhead before him was weird, and definitely piqued Bishop’s interest in the girl. Animals were a good judge of character, after all. 

She sighed, and he noted how her shoulders slumped slightly. Even from the back, she looked utterly defeated. When she turned around however, there was a fire in her eyes that he recognised from the days before. 

“This is all your fault, you know.” She snapped, her eyes narrowing on the other nord. 

“What?” He laughed simply.

“Everything!” She snapped once again, a finger raised in his direction as she strode over to him. “I have been in the /worst/ place mentally since you got your sorry ass into the cistern! First you take my job and my money, then you bring up memories i have been repressing for /years/, then you leave as quickly as you came!” Despite the fire in her eyes that Bishop could now see from their close proximity, her voice was sharp and icy. As she spoke again, she jabbed her raised finger into his chest. “You have the cheek to leave and put me in a weird mood that i can’t get out of, and now you have the balls to just… just- show up again!” The finger on his chest turned to a fist as her voice shook. “What /are/ you?” 

For once in his life, he didn’t have a snarky reply. He just watched her, the playfulness in his eyes - his expression, but nothing that would usually accompany it. 

She let out a groan, pushing herself away from him. She turned away from him, running her hands through her hair frustratedly. After a moment, she rounded on him again, the same anger in her eyes. 

“What? No funny comment? No stupid reply?” She asked, crossing her arms. 

He simply stared, a smirk finding it’s way onto her face. 

“Nice to know I’ve affected you in such a way, princess.”   
She rolled her eyes, making a beeline for the trees, adamant about returning home. 

“That’s the wrong way, if you’re going back to Riften.” He stated simply, jabbing a thumb behind him. 

She gawked at him, before turning and strolling past him in much the same way as she had the days before. 

It was a few minutes before she spoke again. 

“Karnyyr is welcome company, but why are /you/ following me?” 

She looked over her shoulder to see Bishop once again behind her, albeit at a comfortable distance. 

“You might stand for hours without realising it again.” 

She scowled, turning her head forward once again. “Why would you even care about that?”

“Maybe I don’t want the guards to find more beautiful women dead in the Rift’s forests.” 

She was thankful that he couldn’t see her face from his position behind her, because that meant he couldn’t see the red that she could feel heating her face. Whether it was from flattery or anger, she couldn’t tell. 

“Do you annoy everyone you meet?” She scoffed. 

“Absolutely everyone.” 

\--- 

“You know, we’re almost at the Riften gates. You can leave me now.” 

“I’m not following you about for the sake of it, I have stuff to do there.” 

She gazed pointedly at him, and he understood her without words. 

“I’m not going for anything to do with your work.” He groaned, his eyes half rolling. 

Satisfied, she turned her eyes back to the path. “Well, whatever it is, it’s most likely still involving my work. Everything involves them in Riften.” She yawned. 

“You guys do seem to like involving yourselves with everyone else’s business.”   
She snorted, stretching out her arms. 

“Does Karnwyr usually wander off this long? I’d much rather talk to him than you. He seems far more intelligent.” She stated boredly. 

“He does whatever he likes.” He stated simply, before letting out a sharp whistle that was no doubt to call the wolf. After a minute with no bark or sight of the canine, he whistled again. Again, there was no sign of the man’s companion. “He’s probably chasing a rabbit or something.” 

Though he looked carefree, a feeling of dread settled in her stomach. He stopped at the sight of her face. 

“The Rift’s rabbits don’t come this close to town.” She whispered, loud enough for him to hear it. Then, as he took a moment to register her words, she set off. 

He once again followed behind her, more out of curiosity than a shared location this time. 

“Where are you going?” 

She didn’t stop. He called her name, with no answer. It wasn’t until he caught up and grabbed her arm, that she looked at him. 

“The Rift has an illegal cage fighting ring.” She rushed out, her eyes wide. 

He furrowed his dark brows in response, until the words registered in his head. In what felt like seconds, he let go of her arm and rushed ahead. 

That night, the night guards in Riften could hear the voice of a familiar thief calling out an unfamiliar name, and a sharp whistle that repeated. It did not stop as the night went on, rather, it quietened as they furthered away from the hold’s capital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, hi.   
> I realise it's been almost a year since my last update, and I'm incredibly sorry about that! I have so much planned out for this story, but the first few chapters were never planned, so I've been staring at this chapter for months with no idea how to progress the storyline  
> The writing may change throughout this chapter, and I'm sorry if it does! As i said, i've been trying to carry this on for months, so my writing has probably developed throughout this too   
> it probably doesn't help that I've been trying to make my chapters longer,,
> 
> Anyways please let me know what you think! I'm going to try hard to get the next few chapters out of the way so that I can get on with the more exciting plot that i'll be able to write a lot easier (and quicker)  
> I hope you enjoyed!


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